And so they made an end, and Philip mounted his horse and rode away. And all that day I knew not that my brother had stood in reach of my arms. These things and the little more I have here to tell of Philip I learned after from his own lips. Riding sad and thoughtful from the house he did meet, at the turn of the avenue where it opens upon the road, a short, fat man, with red hair that matched ill with his dark and oily skin. His horse, though good, seemed but now painfully to recover from hard running. The fellow's countenance being not unknown to him, Philip was the less surprised to be addressed by name as brother, and asked had he forgotten the speaker. And when he was at length remembered for one Francis, that was in the time of Philip's novitiate a lay brother in no good odor of repute, he told with some boastfulness how he had received priest's orders and the conduct of a great mission, concerning which he was loftily mysterious, saying only it was a great work for the subduing the heathen; to compel a blind and unquestioning assistance in which he had powers granted him, he said, over any member of the Society he should encounter. At present, he added, he was to be known and addressed only as Mr. James Marston of the city of Oxford. He then commanded Philip's attendance upon him, and, on his demurring, showed him such writings as convinced my dear brother, rightly or wrongly, that he had no choice but to obey. Which he did, riding with him sadly enough, and wondering, as he has told me, whether he were not soon about to give the lie to that proud speech wherein he told his father that he, no more than the Society of Jesus, did deal in plots. I will here say that grave doubt has since been cast upon the authenticity of the alleged commission of Brother Francis. Philip has ever held that he was deceived by the man; that the papers were either forged, or used to ends far other than their purpose.
Mr. William Bentinck, whose great knowledge of hidden affairs as well as his lack of bias in favor of that Society entitles his opinion to a greater value, thought it to be a case in which one had been employed that might, in event of failure, throw the fault upon a body of men as accustomed to be blamed as to do good. However it may be, we shall never certainly know the truth of the matter, since the destruction of the papers and other accidents have put it quite beyond the power of any man to enquire further with hope of success. One thing at least is certain: that Philip was as ignorant as innocent of the purpose to which he was led.
And so I find myself in the saddle, taming Roan Charley in the park, where I have, in a manner of speaking, patiently awaited my reader through the tedious course of two chapters.
CHAPTER XI
With my horse reduced to some show of order, but yet champing fretfully at his bit and throwing back his head in such manner as but for my quick avoidance had endangered the soundness of my own, I cantered gaily to that part where the exercising was, with head erect and a firm hold upon the great war-saddle that seemed no longer too vast to grip between the knees. There I perceived that Simon Emmet was at great pains to get the words of command and their significance not only into the heads of his troopers but also into that of Christopher Kidd, who there was sweating visibly in attempt at once to control a fresh horse he had gotten, and to repeat after Simon words of whose meaning he had less knowledge than the men that, for lack of a better, he was to command. At once and without a word I fell into line, and, after a few mistakes, very successfully put myself and Roan Charley through the simple evolution in progress. At first Simon did not mark me, being the more busied that the dulness of Kidd was much increased by his amazement at the sight of me. But when at length Simon saw the direction of his awkward pupil's regard, he as quickly perceived his new recruit.
Giving the command to halt in his great voice of an old sergeant of horse, he walked up to me, saying, with a rough petulance: "How now, young gentleman? What have you to do among these?" Then, at the laugh with which I answered him, he drew near and understood. And mightily put about he was, and would have me at once return to the house.
But, "Tush, Simon!" I said, smiling on him in the fashion I had used from a child when I would have my way rather than his, "do I not do it all fit and properly? You are not to know who I am, but a young gentleman that would exercise with you."
"You must leave the ranks," said Simon, gruff but wavering.
"So I will indeed," I answered, "if Mr. Kidd will but take my place."